I scream for ice cream. Such a wonderful fun food.
Rolling through Charlotte neighborhoods while showing late yesterday, the ice cream truck pulled up to two eagerly bouncing 6 year olds, fist clenched with means to get the ice cream. I paused and smiled.
The image of those excited little kids allowed my mind to roll back to cherished times, when my children jumped to the musical madness of the ice cream truck. And again further back when I experienced my first Eskimo pie.
I am propelled in some fashion by the excitement of pending expectations. Never knowing but hoping the "Ice cream truck" will come again.
So when the reality of Monday rolls around, I look in earnest with a hint of promise.
Pent up demand has cracked the ice of a long frozen market. Buyers are buzzing and sellers are finally seeing their houses garnishing attention. Penned papers, and anxious days waiting to see the art of the deal culminated in closing.
So as I see this activity, reminded of memories past, I hope the sound lingers on.
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